


Real Nasty Shit

by masulevin



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25165921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masulevin/pseuds/masulevin
Summary: Sharky knows the cult’s been up to some real nasty shit lately, and he’s kinda been expecting it to happen, because as cool as it is that their leader gets to walk around without a shirt all the time, it’s still pretty fuckin’ weird to have a group of people move more than 2,000 miles cross-country to live on a compound together, and if Charlemagne Victor Boshaw could pick up on that right away, he doesn’t know what took everyone else so fuckin’ long.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Far Cry Fanzine 2020





	Real Nasty Shit

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the [Far Cry 5 Fanzine](https://unclefungusthegoat.tumblr.com/post/622280231490813952/far-cry-5-fanzine-2020)!
> 
> [Check out the art by the lovely oliviawildsjawline](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ma-sulevin/blog/oliviawildesjawline/622752626695684096).

Sharky knows the cult’s been up to some real nasty shit lately, and he’s kinda been expecting it to happen, because as cool as it is that their leader gets to walk around without a shirt all the time, it’s still pretty fuckin’ weird to have a group of people move more than 2,000 miles cross-country to live on a compound together, and if Charlemagne Victor Boshaw could pick up on that right away, he doesn’t know what took everyone else so fuckin’ long.

Okay, so, he knows the cult helped some people at first, payin’ mortgages and doing yard work for old folks and cleaning up litter or whatever, but then people started up and disappearing and Peggies started showing up with those weird-as-fuck tattoos on their chests and arms, and how were people still willing to join up after  _ that? _

And Hurky says they’re not allowed to drink, smoke,  _ or fuck,  _ and really, Sharky’s not about that life. Why give up the simple pleasures just to be able to walk through Eden’s Gate, or whatever? He’s got a perfectly good gate he can walk through on his property, and no one’s trying to take any of the good stuff away from him.

Shit’s getting particularly weird on this side of the mountain, what with fields of those weird flowers popping up everywhere, basically overnight, and if Sharky gets too close they make him dizzy and wobbly and, like, sparky, and he only wants that if he  _ asks  _ for it, not when he’s out taking an innocent walk with his flamethrower. 

Not only are the flowers ruining his nature time, but the people who take care of the fields are creepy as fuck too, and that’s been getting worse. It’s not even an exaggeration to say that one tried to eat his face when he got too close to it. He was just walking along, minding his own business, looking for something to burn that won’t get him arrested again, because he hasn’t been out all that long and he’s getting real tired of spending his nights at the jail. He was skirting around one of the flower fields because he knows better than to cut right through them now, and just about the time he could see the truck playing Peggie music, he heard someone start yelling, and when he turned around, there was a person with a shaved head and a hospital mask and milky-green eyes barreling right toward him with a shovel lifted over their head.

He’s not proud of a lot of things about himself, not really, but if there’s one thing he’s good at (other than, like, building flamethrowers and mixin’ drinks and making shit explode usually-on-purpose), it’s staying alive, so he swung his pistol up and fired. He didn’t even have time to think about who this person was or why they were trying to get him.

They hit the ground with a strangled cry, and Sharky stood there, watching the blood bloom on their chest, and he felt sick, horrified, hands shaking, cold sweat standing out on his skin because he just  _ killed  _ someone, and what’s he supposed to do?

And then they started to get up, and he panicked, and he shot them again, this time in the head, because what kind of fuckin’ zombie can get shot in the chest and then stand back up like nothing’s wrong? They stayed down that time, and then Sharky had to book it because a non-zombie-Peggie started yelling at him, probably for killing the zombie, and he didn’t look back. 

The dead Peggie didn’t end up in the news, and the cops didn’t come knocking at his door, and he realized… the Peggies weren’t working with the law. You only don’t go to the law with a dead body if you’re up to bigger shit the law don’t need to know about.

So, yeah, the cult’s up to some  _ real  _ nasty shit, and the fact that the police tried to arrest Joseph and somehow managed to fuck that up beyond belief just makes everything worse. It’s like the Peggies don’t give a shit anymore -- they’re just taking what they want, burning down what they can’t take easy, and kidnapping people right off the streets (he’s seen it), and they’re churning out more of those zombie-Peggies like they’re trying to cast a weird-ass hillbilly version of  _ Night of the Living Dead _ .

Literally the only good thing about this is with almost all of the Sheriff’s Department on lockdown by the cult, there’s no one to stop Sharky from lighting up or destroying the cult’s shit, and he’s planning on taking full advantage of it. He can fight back without having to go down to the jail or into Fall’s End to find some people to team up with. He can kill some zombie-Peggies on his own, thin out the herd, maybe save a few people who don’t know that they can get up once or twice after they should’ve been killed, maybe just have a little fun with the flamethrower and the explosives he’s been collecting.

He puts out a call for people to join him for a barbeque (hah) at the Moonflower and gets all set up as he waits, patience wearing thinner every second, testing his speaker system and the pedals he’s set up to help him control the music.

(The zombie-Peggies hate his disco, which is just another reason they’ve gotta be put down. They can’t be trusted with that kind of taste in music.)

Sharky’s got his hand on the starting switch when he sees a car pull up to the Moonflower’s entrance, and he hesitates just long enough to recognize Hurky hauling himself outta the front seat, waving big and happy, and then someone he recognizes from the Wanted: Sinner posters that keep poppin’ up everywhere.

Oh,  _ hell _ yeah.

If he can get the  _ deputy  _ on his side against the zombie-Peggies… this is gonna be fuckin’ lit.


End file.
